One Last Hope
by WanderingSnake
Summary: Oneshot. A marine tries to convince a captive Elite wounded in battle to change his ways, otherwise there is no point in continuing to help him.Please Review


A/N: This is just a little oneshot story which takes place just after the boarders had been repelled, and the Master Chief lef

**A/N: This is just a little oneshot story which takes place just after the boarders had been repelled, and the Master Chief left the station, and is in no way related to my other story, On Call.**

**One Last Hope**

By BastardSon1

**Earth Defense Platform, Cairo**

**10.20.2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Med Bay 7**

The bay itself looked just as you would expect it to, a long room with three rows of beds, one along the front and back walls, and the last running down the center of the room, a large window along the front with a view to the planet below, harsh white lights shining down upon the room's occupants. At one end, next to the bay's doors, was an enclosed watch station, where a marine was conversing quietly with the watchman on duty.

"I still don't see why we need to hold off on this."

"I told you, I just need to talk to him, don't you think we should at least give him a chance?" the marine said, looking over toward the bed at the far end of the room. The bed in question, situated as far away from the other occupied beds as possible, contained a captive Elite, who had been injured in battle, and brought in on the good graces of some soldier. The Elite was held to the bed by no less than ten restraints, two on each arm and leg, one on his midsection, and one around his shoulders.

"Not really, no. When have they ever given us a chance?"

"Look, that's not what's important right now, just let me see what I can do."

Huffs "alright, just make it quick."

The marine nodded, left the watch station, and headed toward the bed at the end of the room.

Along the way, he picked up a metal chair from beside one of the beds, and sat down next to the unconscious Elite. His helmet, which had several long gashes and dents that marred the blue metal, had been removed, and lay on a small shelf that ran along the wall. The young warrior's head was wrapped in bandages. For a while, he just sat there, watching the Elite, the rich brown skin on his long neck, and the wrinkles around his mandibles. He watched his chest rise and fall with each breath he took.

Finally, the Elite began to stir, and as one baleful eye cracked open to stare at him, the Elite's features contorted into a look of disgust.

"Vile disgusting filth."

"Nice to meet you to."

"Leave me be, vermin. I have no wish to defile myself further than I already have." He said, tugging at his restraints.

"I just wanted to talk to you-"

"And fill me with your heretical lies? I think not. Just leave me to my death."

"I just needed to ask you something, it won't take long."

"Hmph"

"Hmph? Is that all you have to say? I guess that's the best explanation I'm gonna get for what you do isn't it?

At this the Elite glanced back at him, a questioning look in his eye.

"27 years ago, you come across an alien species, and what do you do? Do you establish contact? Do you extend a hand in friendship? Do you at least try to learn more about us before you make any judgments? No, you say "They must be destroyed at once!" And why? What did we do? Was it something we said? Something we did? Or was it just the simple fact that we existed?"

"Your exis-"

"I'm not done yet. You see, we Humans have had our fair share of genocides and crusades, which is why I'm having some trouble classifying this whole war. On the one hand this isn't just a genocide, because I know you're looking for something that's of some religious importance, but on the other hand, this doesn't seem like much of a crusade because you always destroy the land you take from us, so what is it then?"

"The Hierarchs-"

"Forget the hierarchs, if I wanted to know what the Hierarchs said, I would be asking them, right now, there is only you and me, no hierarchs, no covenant. I want you to think for yourself."

He watched as the Elite's mind raced, his eyes darting back and forth, searching for an answer that wasn't there.

His silence was all the answer the marine needed. _Then there is no hope for this one._

He stood up to leave, and returned to the watch station, where a doctor and his muscular assistants were waiting, he shook his head.

The doctor nodded, and he and the two assistants made there way to the end of the room, followed be a robotic cart carrying a set of syringes under a cloth.

The marine sat down at the watch station's desk, put his head in his hands, and tried to block out the Elites final shouts of protest.

A tear escaped his eye as his thoughts drifted to the young warrior's heartbroken family.


End file.
